July
by kebzero
Summary: Shounen ai/genfic. Six months after the Mariemeia war, Quatre invites the other ex-pilots for a month's vacation.
1. July 1st

(part 1 of 31)

07/01-207

_Heero Yuy's Personal Log_

I've decided to accept Quatre's offer. Most of my belongings are already in storage awaiting the next semester. I'll leave campus tonight.

Professor Malackey has made arrangements so that I can take my last two exams in august, when they gather up those who were ill or otherwise unable to attend. I still feel it is a result of poor planning - if you take on thrice the course matter to finish faster, and even if you choose combinations that leave you able to follow all classes, that the professors double-book the exams seems inevitable.

Whenever I've pointed this deficiency out, professor Malackey has given me this strange look of pity. When I handed in my study plan for this fall, she sighed and asked me if I shouldn't 'just take it easy and enjoy life as a student'.

I'm still not sure what she meant by that. How exactly are you supposed to enjoy memorizing the Periodic table or bits of world history? It's a chore, nothing more. I remember being asked the same thing a long time ago, but I didn't have an answer then either.

The exam results returned so far are adequate. Marks for sciences and mathematics are in the top percentile. Humanities studies, however, aren't going so well. I contested the results - I cannot understand the deductions given that the answers are practically quotations from our text books. Professor Henley informed me that though I was technically correct, the answers lacked personal opinion and analysis. He said his class was not about regurgitating knowledge, but about making us think for ourselves. When I told him I didn't understand, he smiled and told me to process the thought over the summer. I plan to.

Still, why do the faculty members at this college have to be so cryptic all the time? Why can't they point out exactly where my fault lies, so that I can rectify it? J never gave me any problems like this.

Melanie Jenkins came by my table at lunch yesterday. At first, we just talked about the exams. Well, I did. She talked about other people, or the food, or brought up random bits of gossip. She talked a lot. Asked questions. When she asked what I was going to do today, I was about to recite my limited itinerary, but she stopped me at the first point; a hair-cut. She reached out to my bangs, but I shirked back. I barely stopped myself before grabbing her wrist - I'm still undecided whether that was old combat reflexes, or that I truly didn't want her touching my hair. To my relief, she backed off, telling me I really shouldn't cut my hair, and that there was something 'magical' about the way it was.

The heck is magical about hair that pretty much falls into your eyes, or itches you in the neck?

Then she wanted to know if I was interested in joining her study group, the rest of which looked over from the next table, as if on cue. I suppose this was the main reason for her approaching me; most students give me a wide berth. I don't know Melanie or any of her friends that well, but I do know the approximate academic level she is at - at best, she has mediocre grades. I wasn't interested, and I told her as much. She looked so disappointed I felt compelled to explain my reasoning for rejecting her offer, to avoid misunderstandings.

That sad look became a frown in an instant, and after shooting me a glare of resentment, she walked away. Her posse didn't look too pleased with me, neither.

I still can't understand why they'd be so upset. Bradley, a guy in my Physics class - a friend, I suppose - came over to me right after, laughing quietly. He gave me this advice; I should never tell women the truth. In most cases, saying the exact opposite would be better. As examples, he sited questions like 'am I too fat?', or 'isn't this a nice hat?'.

I tried following his counsel this morning, when I ran into Melanie again. I bragged about her smarts, said those triple-sized sunglasses looked good on her, and that the whiskers around the mole on her left cheek are almost invisible.

In return, she slapped me. With a closed fist.

I haven't had a punch like that for a good six months - and I don't mean to say Duo hits like a girl. He doesn't. Neither does Melanie.

I meant to talk to Bradley about this, but I won't have time. It seems that every woman on campus is scowling at me now, and I'm not sure why. I guess it'll be good to take a break from all of this, and be absent for a while. I'll need some time to figure out where I went wrong.

I suppose there will be plenty of time on the flight across the Atlantic.

_-end file- Yuy, Heero_


	2. July 2nd

July 2nd, 207

_Jolly Roger's Journal_

Go, Duo...

When the hell will I ever learn?

You don't tell a woman whose biological clock is chiming with church bells that maybe she ought to get some baker to put a bun in her oven. You _really_ don't do that just after you told her you fucked up a couple of business deals, and you _seriously_ don't do that if she's curled up with a comforter in the couch, watching some sappy chick flick and shoving down icecream right out of the tub.

Too bad I didn't gain that wisdom before I was dodging an icecream scoop. Heck, I thought it was a _good_ joke at the time... for all the five seconds _that_ lasted.

I hate Auntie Red. Something _always_ goes wrong when she's giving Hilde a visit, and I'm usually the victim. I know Hilde needed a day off, but she's better at negotiating than I am. She's got stone skin for remarks and a way of turning the tables without anyone noticing.

I, on the other hand, can't stand slights. If I'm pissed, I'm not afraid to share what's on my mind. It's not like I _meant_ to fuck up the deal, but when Biggs over from Ronald's Recycling drops a quip about the 'all-girl team' of Maxwell Salvage, he'd better _expect_ to get a quick knee in tender places, especially when he serves the remark with this silky-smooth used-car-salesman grin of his.

It's okay, though. He probably won't be smiling much between now and the dentistry bill, thanks to my follow-up left hook.

Whoever came up with 'home, sweet home' can't have spent much time there. Can't wait to get out of here. A couple more hours, and I can probably excuse myself and get out to the spaceport. Won't be a shuttle until morning, but I'll probably sleep better at the departure hall than I will here. She needs time to cool off, and as long as I'm here, it'll just take longer.

I'll buy some flowers to send back to her on my way earthside. She'll still be pissed, but I know she'll appreciate them. Maybe I'll feel less guilty for not having her along - but she's the one who insisted I go alone. She said that by the sound of the invite, Quatre's thing is 'for the guys' only. That cracked me up, but I didn't tell her why. I mean, I could be _wrong_ about Quatre, and that's one thing I don't want to mess up - the few friendships I've earned.

Hilde will probably make some calls tomorrow and save some of the contracts, leaving us with plenty to do when I get back in a month. It's the usual. I'm the 'Maxwell' part. She's the 'Salvage'. And salvation.

_- 'fear the reaper no more,' - Little D._


	3. July 3rd

July third, AC 207

_Side Notes_

I'm making an early entry today, as I'll be travelling later.

Catherine has been above average annoying lately. It's not her fault, it's not like she's the only one with sour grapes these days. The entire cast and crew is frustrated, even the manager can't hide his disappointment at the lack of revenue. This American tour is turning out to be a spectacular failure.

The empty bleachers isn't what bothers us - we've performed before empty crowds before, and skipped a meal the day after. No, it's that the land of promises is letting us down. They haven't spoken much of the Dream here for nearly two hundred years, not since the fences went up and the race to make L1 began. Sure, maybe we're chasing ghosts, hoping to strike it rich. It's happened before.

Funny how the 'Big Dream' stories never mention all those who toiled forever and gained nothing. Hard work might help, but cunning, luck and sheer ego wins through.

I guess we were wrong to believe our small circus could make an impact here. Most of our competition is far grander, far flashier. We've never had to contend with something like that at the colonies; the freight costs and logistics alone would have killed the big players up there. We didn't have too much trouble in Eurasia either, small attractions still fare well over there.

Not so here, in the land where everything's big - and that also includes disappointments.

Anyway - Quatre has invited me and the guys to one of his mansions on the Mediterranean coast for the rest of the summer. I originally thought I'd decline. Given how things are, I figured I'd be needed here. Catherine disagreed. Greatly. She claimed _I_ was the one who'd gotten testy at our lack of success, and if anyone needed a time-out, it would be me. And she added something that I wasn't indespensible, if that's what I'd thought.

I know she wasn't _serious_ when she said she was the big star of our little circus. At least I hope she wasn't.

She does have a point, though. It doesn't take that much effort to be a living target for her daggers. Just nerve. Same with cleaning the lions' cage, or putting on a clown suit. One mask fits all, and all that.

What won me over was Duo. We've been in touch online every so often, and he got the invite a day before I did - benefits of having a fixed address, I guess. I got the distinct impression he was more eager about it than our gracious host. It's been a couple of months since we last saw each other.

Since we last saw our Gundams. For the last time.

I remember when I first blew up Deathscythe - Duo never let me forget. I never told him, but that final day I rigged Heavyarms' self-destruct system to his detonator. I figured that way we were sort of even. I didn't quite understand loss until that moment. We've seen a lot of death, caused it too - but the destruction of a _thing_ hit me more than the ghosts of all those I've killed.

Maybe I read too much into Duo's online banter, but it sort of felt like he needed a little 'group therapy'.

Or maybe that's just me.

Catherine thinks the trip would do me good. She says that perhaps I'm cut out for other things than touring with the circus. The war is over, I've no need to hide anymore. Those who know my face are either dead or allies now. We've all been cleared of war crime charges, thanks to Heero. His face became our face at the closed trials. I'm surprised he didn't pick law school - or the poker table.

Regardless, I've packed my bags. Tickets were included with the invitation, so there wouldn't be added expenses to our pressed budget. If anything, it'd be one less mouth to feed for a month, while the manager figures out what to do next.

There's really only one snag - the tickets were from the town we were in last week, so I'm hitting the road early to hitchhike.

Another note when I get to the airport - maybe,

_ - T.B._


	4. July 4th

July fourth

_Dear Diary,_

I'm starting to wonder if this was such a good idea after all.

Rashid has insisted I take a break from corporate life for a while now, and I guess he's been right. After some eighteen months as the head of Winner Enterprises - actual head or figurehead, I'm still undecided - I've grown wearied of exchanging fake smiles with people I'd rather have shot, if I had the chance. We broke a lot of eggs in the war, but there are plenty of rotten ones left.

The Winner estate at the southern Mediterranean coast is about as remote as the corporation is willing to let me go to. The Maganacs still maintain the underground complex there, and I'm sure that in some sub-level they've tucked away a couple of mobile suits as well, despite the new regulations. I don't ask, they don't tell. It's an insurance, I suppose. We don't believe there are any more Dekims hiding in the woodwork - that is, none of us but Wufei. He accepted the loss of his gundam, but only for the power of example. The disarmament process would not have gone as smoothly if we hadn't led the way.

Anyway... Rashid suggested I spend time with friends - and I knew he didn't mean the Maganacs. That sort of limited my choices. Still, it'll be good talking to them again. At least I know whatever they say is _real_, unlike the make-believe world of the business suits. Alice has her wonderland, I have mine; plenty of Mad Hatters and stressed rabbits, not enough beheadings.

Just before I left for the airport this morning, Sally called to let me know Wufei would arrive late - some last-minute Preventer case, she said. I suspect it was a cover, but I didn't push it. I know Wufei has a grudge with us for 'going civilian' on him. Heero, Duo and Trowa all came in today, and Duo immediately insisted we have a party - with fireworks.

Heero asked him 'what for', before I could. Duo went on a rant of explaining why and how the fourth day of July should be celebrated, leaving more questions raised than settled, judging from Heero's expressions. Even when Duo said the celebration was 'as old as Islam', I didn't bother to correct him. Duo has always been a 'here and now' kind of person; not much for any history but his own - but in return, damn proud of it. I don't think he's a Catholic, and I don't think he ever lived in old America, but he considers both part of his heritage, and treasures them.

I can relate, of course. Though some tenets of Islam came with the Winners as we went into space, most matters of faith were left on the ground. It changes your outlook on divine beings when you get to see the Earth from far above; the sight which is supposed to be reserved for the gods.

Digressing again... The party became a fact. We did manage to find some old pyrotechnics on our way back, and Rashid added some crates of old ordnance from the underground bunker. It was scheduled for destruction anyway, so why not enjoy the blast? The mansion is remote enough the fireworks wouldn't bother anyone, and much of the landscape to the south is desert already. Beer, barbecue and big explosions - I think Duo was in heaven.

I wasn't, but didn't have the heart to tell him. I've never been fond of beer, heavy red meats upset my stomach, and I had my fair share of flashy kabooms during the war. I guess I just don't match the 'guy likes' stereotype.

Still, that doesn't matter. My guests seemed to enjoy themselves, and that is the important part.

Of course, looks can be deceiving... We chatted a lot, but we didn't _talk_. I've always had a knack for sensing what people feel, which is sometimes more of a pain than an asset. Trapped here for four weeks, I hope they'll open up about whatever is bothering them. We all cleared the psych evaluations after the war, but that doesn't mean there aren't thoughts and nightmares that linger on.

Perhaps tomorrow, we'll be more honest with each other.

Good night,

_- Quatre_


	5. July 5th

AC 207, 05/01

_Memoirs of a Warrior_

I still cannot understand them. First, they decide we must give up our most valuable assets, our gundams. Then, they happily returned to civilian life - _again_ - as if nothing had happened. And now they want to gather for a _pool party_?

I grudgingly agreed to the destruction of our gundams. They were right in that the power of example would lead the righteous to abandon such power - but there are plenty of malcontents willing to harbor mobile suits until all legitimate suits are gone. Without a counter, they would have an almost free reign of chaos.

The Preventers are in a race to weed out all weapons caches, especially those with mobile suits and other large pieces of military hardware remaining in non-governmental or law enforcement hands, before all legitimate military might has been disbanded. Why the others would shirk away from this critical task is beyond my comprehension.

And now, this. There have been times in the past when I have thought Quatre much too soft, but this ..

I declined to even answer the invite, but I suspect agent Po has intervened on my behalf, without my consent.

I have never been able to understand women - and especially her. Every time I find a facet of her being I can grasp, she soon shows me a new side, as deep and impossible to penetrate the reflections of. That women are the greatest mystery known to man is an understatement.

I _do_ see why she is interfering this time. She has long said that I need to make friends - or at least increase my efforts in keeping the ones I have. She also insists I take some time off from work - to remember why we are doing these covert ops jobs in the first place. I feel I have a fair grasp of why, but few can be as insistent as that woman, when she puts her mind to it.

I guess I should not have been surprised to learn she had booked new tickets and made arrangements for a prolonged period away from assignments. Her being my superior - for now - and team partner makes such annoyances far too easy. If I object further, I am confident that I will find my suitcase already packed and my next field assignment curiously close to some Mediterranean beach villa owned by the Winner family.

It is difficult for a proud man to accept defeat, especially at the hand of a woman. It is even harder to negotiate with an 'enemy', rather than seek one another's ultimate and utter destruction, as is normal. Sally must at least permit me to finish off the current assignment - the trap closes on this terrorist cell tomorrow. Once the situation is tidied up, I can accept a short absence before we start hunting the next hive of villainy.

There seems to be an infinite supply of them, and we can never be rid of the main factor that makes them - profit.

_'A spark can start a fire that burns the entire prairie.'  
- Chang Wufei_


	6. July 6th

07/06-207

_Heero Yuy's Personal Log_

Duo rolled his eyes when I told him about my curriculum. After that, I didn't want to ask if he knew how I could best enjoy my studies. He's never been much for theoretical education, anyway. Learning by doing seems to be his preferred method. That, or doing something different, like basketball.

I'm wondering whether I've made an error in pursuing knowledge rather than 'get a life', as they call it. The others have certainly achieved far more than I, in so many ways.

Quatre is a case all to his own. Though his position of CEO is close to hereditary, he certainly has proven that he's not simply wielding a silver spoon - he does know what he deals with. Of course, he has had the benefit of a "fairly normal childhood", as he put it himself yesterday. He wouldn't have to play catch-up with years being away from any school system. I don't know much about his social life, but I did see his face plastered on the cover of some glossy magazine with the tag line of 'Most Eligible Bachelors' two months ago, so I'm presuming he's doing well.

Wufei is climbing in the ranks of the Preventers at a staggering rate, especially considering he was one of their 'most wanted' - and not as in to hire - just six months ago. In one of her visits this spring, Relena said that Sally Po specifically asked to be partnered up with Wufei. When I told her Wufei would have been my choice too, she took an averse reaction to the tea I'd offered her. At first, I thought she had a different opinion of Wufei's skills as a soldier than I had, but after some clarifying exchanges, I then realized the emphasis she'd put on 'specifically' was supposed to carry a veiled meaning.

I still have trouble with how words can say more than what they mean.

Sally's interest should serve as a testament to Wufei's situation on the social scale of things - though Relena seems to have warmed up to him also, recently. It should not come as a surprise, as her office works tightly with the Preventers, and the need to keep each other up to date is crucial. She is the ministry's foremost liaison with the agency, and she is that by talking not only to Preventer leadership, but the men and women in the field as well. Relena is not the simple, silly girl I once mistook her to be.

I'd never thought it'd hurt that she'd pay me almost no attention.

Duo has hit the jackpot as far as normalcy goes. He has a successful business at L2, he lives and works with Hilde, and the two of them seem inseparable. I don't know Hilde that well, but I do know that Duo cares greatly for her. She does have spirit, and I believe she must have, to keep tabs with Duo. Quatre said it's a miracle the two hadn't killed each other, both being so headstrong, but the way they all laughed it off, made me draw the conclusion he was joking.

Trowa is perhaps the only one I dare draw comparisons with. Yet, he has secured a career with that small circus of his. I've no doubt that he will achieve great fame for his performances in the ring someday. When they toured the area near my college this spring, I went to see the show. For all his height, he can move with tremendous grace up there under the big-top.

However, for now, he's 'just' a normal employee, as normal as can be if you work at a circus - and he's alone.

I think that's why I prefer to use Trowa to compare with. Trowa is a flower that hasn't yet fully bloomed in terms of his career. Still, he has found the most stable family of all of us - all the people at their circus. He even has pets, after a fashion - and short of Duo with his goldfish tank, I don't think any of us can brag about that.

Unless you count the wild flamingos Quatre took us to see the other day. The concept of an oasis is staggeringly beautiful - a patch of flourishing green in the midst of a bone-dry desert, nothing for miles around other than heat and dust. His first moments on Earth were certainly better than my own.

And I guess that is what all this comes down to.

I'm jealous.

They're all successful, all happy. I still don't know what life has in store for me. Then again, I gave up on life a long time ago, and every new day comes as a surprise.

It is if that is pleasant or not I can't quite figure out.

_-end file- Yuy, Heero_


	7. July 7th

July 7th, 207

_Jolly Roger's Journal_

Wufei finally saw fit to grace us with his divine presence this morning. We hit it off immediately, like always. I make a friendly quip, he scowls and dismisses it, attempts a counter, and there we go.

Was it a good thing the others were there to keep it from getting physical? I don't know. Wufei looked like he could use a good brawl to loosen up. Easy enough to see he wasn't happy to be here. Bet Sally got him here at gunpoint, or something. If he wants to be pissy, let him.

Yeah, I'm not exactly a bag of cheers either, not since talking to Hilde on the phone yesterday. I think she's forgiven my contract mishap, and the hints she dropped leads me to think I'll have plenty to do when I get back to L2. Her mood has certainly improved - and since she still has leverage on me thanks to last week's screw-ups, she 'reminded' me about another thing we've discussed before.

Well, _she_'s been talking about it, while I've usually listened impatiently, and occasionally muttered something she hopefully didn't catch. Basically, she wants me to beg Quatre for money.

We're getting by on L2... for now, at least - but it's on L3 that the biggest construction boom is these days, and in space, a building boom also means they have to get rid of derelict colonies and orbital debris first. It's not like on Earth, where you just blow up the old buildings, and scoop up the rubble neatly gathered by gravity afterwards. If you blow things up in space, it's like creating a gravity-powered tornado; plenty of high-velocity pieces of scrap perfectly capable of tearing you and whatever tincan of air you're inside - colony, ship, suit, whatever - to even more little high-speed bits of shrapnel.

So, there's a lot of junk on L3 that needs to be processed. Some of it ends up at L2, of course, but it'd be much easier to get salvage contracts if we were on site. Hilde thinks we should expand, and set up shop at L3. Of course, we can't afford anything like that. Even if we sold everything we had at L2, that wouldn't cover the initial expenses at L3. I mean, there's a reason we stuck to L2 in the first place; living costs there are more in line with our income.

Thing is - she's right, we _should_ go for it - but I hate the idea of asking a friend for handouts like that. Quatre would probably give us the money in a heartbeat; he handles sums way bigger than we'll ever see every day. If we're lucky, he wouldn't even insist on interfering in the day-to-day operations of things, something he'd be fully entitled to if he funded the whole shebang.

Gift, loan, handout - no matter what form it took, I'd still owe Quatre big-time. Even if we were able to pay him back later, I'd still be in his debt, and that's the sort of feeling I seriously hate to have. I don't want to depend on my friends for bailout money. To save my life, sure. How I conduct my life? No way in hell.

Try getting _that_ point over to Hilde. She's a damn bright girl, but male pride is as beyond her as nearly everything about women are to me. Maybe our women trouble is one of the few things that Wufei and I can see eye to eye on.

I don't think I've heard the last from Hilde on this subject, though.

Wufei and I weren't the only ones getting physical - well, almost - today. Heero and Trowa had a series of armwrestling matches before lunch. It was sort of strange to watch. Trowa's put on a lot of bulk since the wars. They must have worked him like one of the caged animals at that circus, 'cause he looks more like the 'strong man' than an acrobat now.

At least, when compared to Heero. If anyone proves there's more to them than meets the eye, Heero would be a good example. He doesn't _look_ as intimidating as Trowa, but he'd crush most people in armwrestling simply because they'd underestimate him. Trowa doesn't, and gave him a fair match. Two wins, two losses - and then Quatre promptly interrupted them before the final match could be held.

Conclusion? Quatre wins, always.

No wonder I'm scared as hell of asking for a handout.

_- 'none can grin like the dead.' - Little D. _


	8. July 8th

July eighth, AC 207

_Side Notes_

It's been good to just forget everything for a while - to just live, and not worry. It took me a couple of days to get there, but it left me as happy as a Buddhist monk achieving nirvana.

I should have known it wouldn't last. The state of perfection is best known by its inherent fragility; it takes forever to attain, and an instant to shatter.

This morning, heading down to the breakfast buffet, I ran into Quatre. He'd woken up early, and had already eaten, placed three calls to check on his substitutes, and decided to work on his tan. He asked me to help with the lotion.

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say no. I wanted not to say anything, but that would have seemed the strangest of all, if I'd left it at that. Without thinking much beyond that, I just reached out and took the bottle.

Quatre sat down on one of the sun chairs, put aside the towel he'd carried over his neck, and bent forward a little, waiting. I've never better understood a vampire than I did just then.

So, I sat down, poured a good amount between his shoulder-blades, and tentatively smeared the stuff out, all over his back. I wanted to rush it. I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to do it as normally as I could, as much like a nonchalant friend would.

When he let go this faint, content sigh, that became ridiculously hard.

I've always had an affinity for Quatre. I've never been one to trust people at first sight, but Quatre was different. For so long, I thought _he_ was the one who surrendered back then.

At first, I thought it was just a big-brother reflex of some sort, something akin to how Cathy keeps looking out for me, how she protects me in any way she sees fit and takes payment in the sibling sort of abuse. Quatre certainly could give off the impression of a kid in way the wrong place at the wrong time. It takes someone for him to lead to truly realize how much he belongs at a battlefield.

Then, the dreams began.

I dismissed them at first. Dreams are just how your brain scrambles everything you've experienced recently, plus a fair bit you never have, and makes up a ludicrous story while it archives those memories it wants to keep. I had plenty of dreams where I died, or where I flew, or where I became Heavyarms and went on a rampage, stomping out OZ soldiers like ants. So what if I had a few where I got intimate with a guy friend?

Then it got worse.

I suppose getting amnesia was sort of a good thing. Being someone else for a while sort of helped put some distance between the whos I were. By the time it all came back, we were on the Peacemillion, and close to the endgame of the first war. I got around to accepting I was probably gay - ever since Midii, I've had trouble trusting women with most things, much less my feelings. I didn't tell anyone, though - not even Quatre. Instead, I kept those thoughts to myself, and myself out of the way insofar possible. After the battles, it was easy enough to hightail it back to the circus and continue to hide there.

Mariemeia brought it all back, but again I could seek shelter at the circus afterward.

The fact remained, though - I wanted Quatre.

It was about that thought that I woke up from my daydreaming, and found that with Quatre's back all done, my hands had wandered around to his chest, and I'd leaned forward, enough for my hair to brush his, my nose almost touching his ear, giving me a breathful of the sweet strawberry shampoo scent of his wet hair. I froze.

"Trowa?" Quatre asked me cautiously - and I got up and ran.

He called after me, but thankfully he didn't follow me.

It's difficult visiting someone and try to stay away from them at the same time. I think I love Quatre, but I'd never want to say or do anything to hurt him. It's a catch-22, if there ever was one.

I think Quatre thinks I'm keeping away from him because I have something against him. The truth is the exact opposite.

And I just want to protect him.

From me.

Another note when I've washed my hands again.

_ - T.B._


	9. July 9th

July ninth

_Dear Diary,_

Now I'm _really_ starting to wonder whether this was a good idea.

Whatever unease I sensed in them earlier, has become much worse.

Heero doesn't speak much - the few times he does, some random line from Duo or Wufei meant as a playful retort or a matter of fact has the effect of shutting him up like a clam. A clam longing to aim a howitzer at all those present, without any of us able to grasp why.

Duo talks all too much, but the message gets lost. He keeps giving me these looks, like there's something very important he wants to tell me, but just can't. I've tried to corner him when he's alone, and maybe figure it out, but either one of the others unwittingly interfere, or Duo escapes me.

Trowa, on the other hand, can't seem to look me in the eye anymore. Yeah, you could say that his long bangs would make that difficult anyway, but ever since he got here, he's been oddly skittish. He's still the calm, tall guy he was during the war, but I know something is wrong - I just can't figure out _what_.

Wufei... Wufei I _can_ understand. He's been bitter, sullen and mostly unpleasant ever since he got here. At first, I thought he was angry with us. He's made no secret of the fact he feels our choices in the aftermath of the Mariemeia wars were wrong. He's made it very obvious he felt we should all have signed up with the Preventers immediately - not out of patriotism, not out of dreams of stature, power or respect, but simply because it was _the right thing to do_.

Yet, he's not angry. If anything, I'd say he was _disappointed_ in us, like my father was in me when I went against his pacifist ideals. It doesn't mean Wufei still doesn't care for us. I know he does. He just lacks a way of expressing that, since we no longer share the visions of justice, liberty, freedom - any of those lofty ideals that are supposed to make everything better.

I tend to agree with him, but being a CEO has taught me the value of a dictatorship structure. In Europe, the ideal was once to be ruled by an 'enlightened despot', the sort of 'strong man' figure that could lead his nation in all matters; military, financially, socially - and do it well enough that only the die-hards objected. The idea was that if there was a single, brilliant mind wielding all that power unhindered, great things could be achieved. There is concrete proof to the wonders absolute dictatorship can bring - the Pyramids, the Great Wall - most of the grand monuments of times past could not have come without a strong central government - or the suffering of a great many.

And that would be the problem of the 'enlightened despot'. Usually, you could only get the latter half. The most recent one was Dekim Barton, and I would certainly not call him anywhere near enlightened. Mariemeia, perhaps, once she had gotten another lifetime to grow up in, but for Dekim she would never have been more than a figurehead.

So, we do know that Wufei is right. We have to weed out all the remaining seeds of chaos, all those with aspirations to become masters over others, without giving their victims the benefit of an honest day's pay for the privilege. The problem is, we no longer wish to take part in it. It is time others stepped up to the plate - those who called themselves civilians in the past conflicts, or claimed 'they were only following orders' if they were enlisted men in any faction.

For all his bluster, Wufei isn't simply an idealist.

I think he sees his tour of duty with the Preventers as a penance - for forcing the people of the Earth Sphere to realize they must never again tolerate a despot, enlightened or not.

He'd never admit this.

I'd settle for knowing exactly why he came, instead. Even if Sally strong-armed him, he could easily have 'gotten lost' on the way here, dishonorable as he might have thought that to be.

Like the rest of us, he's chatting, not talking.

Not yet.

Good night,

_- Quatre_


	10. July10th

AC 207, 10/07

_Memoirs of a Warrior_

This is meaningless.

I have tried to make them understand the necessity of what the Preventers do, and why it is imperative that they lend their skills to support the effort. Appealing to their common sense does not seem to suffice. Nothing I say, reaches them.

Do they really expect that they can live such carefree lives if we do not ensure our safety first?

Quatre, I can at least respect. Financial muscle and political backing of the Preventers' cause is badly needed. Sweet words of nothing wins you votes in an election. To do the actual tough task rarely brings accolades, unless you manage to put the proper spin on it afterward - and you can bet the bumbling mediocrities that are your political opponents will undo your work as 'expensive nonsense' or suchlike, while they have no compunction about adding pork for their own districts.

In the voting ballot, all anyone cares about is which bad choice is the lesser evil, nobody seems to notice all of that which ensures that you get to make that bad choice in the first place - and they would never vote for anyone who flaunted the 'do what is right' option unless they put a populist spin on it.

There are plenty of politicians who feel the Earth Sphere government is a bad idea. With only one big playing field, they have less room to flaunt their feathers and air their bluster. Actors make good politicians for a reason.

The only thing worthwhile about staying here, are the few talks I have had with Rashid, the defacto leader of the Maganac mercenary team. They are, of course, disbanded as a paramilitary faction now, but they have not abandoned their creed. If conflict was to erupt, they are ready to fight whatever evils may come. I sense steel in the man, and I am proud there are still a few of his kind left.

It pains me to know that any potential adversary the Preventers may unearth, will have none of that mettle, nor anywhere close to such a sense of integrity. Those who believe only in greed and power, can never be allowed to lead. This, unfortunately, includes much of the present cabinet.

Like Lady Une, I am not a fan of democracy. The people elected tend to be the exact wrong people for the job - but they have the support of the people they rule, for the most part. The few politicians that _are_ the right men and women for the job, are the only saving graces of democracy - and save it they frequently do.

Rashid has shown me the catacombs that lie below this mansion. Once their hideout in war, it is now their home in peace. Yet, they are not so tied to the place that they would not abandon it. The Maganacs know that a siege mentality can only bring defeat, in the end. Mobility is key to winning a war. If you wall yourself in, you build yourself a prison.

A part of me wonders if that is not exactly what the other pilots have done. They hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil - and when evil smashes against their walls, they are overcome and crushed by their own bricks and mortar before they know what hit them.

What really irks me, is that even Heero has fallen in this trap. It is an appealing trap, certainly. It is also deadly.

Heero has always been one to do what is necessary. When the Preventers formed, I would have thought he would have been among the first to enlist. Instead, I learned that he had drafted himself for another purpose entirely. He says he is preparing for the future, that perhaps the next generation will need _their_ five scientists coming up with solutions to keep the peace. Perhaps there is some wisdom in his words - but why can he not combine scientific pursuits with at least advisory duties with the agency? There are many men and women within the Preventers who would to well to go in his tutelage. The same could be said for Trowa, or even Duo.

Field duty is my choice, though. I need to handle the problem directly, to be certain that the weeds are plucked out in a way that they will not grow back and mar your vision the next spring.

However, the garden is large, there are too few gardeners, and the powers that be would not allow us to use a lawnmower. Such is the weakness of a democracy.

_'When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter.'  
- Chang Wufei_


	11. July 11th

07/11-207

_Heero Yuy's Personal Log_

Duo's been asking how I'm getting along with the girls at college. I answer as is true - it's sort of a stand-off situation; I don't bother them, they don't bother me. Which means I'm getting along with them okay, I think. I selectively forgot to inform him about the last developments involving miss Jenkins.

I'm not a fool - I do grasp the fact he meant whether I had a girlfriend or not. I understand that is one part that is almost accepted will happen at college - dating. In retrospect, perhaps that was Melanie's real intent - to get the two of us in a situation where arranging a date, or having what could effectively pass as a date would be easy.

I suppose it is just as well things turned out the way they did. Some of my acquaintances at college has indeed gotten themselves involved in the dating game, but few of the relationships formed last much longer than a few weeks, maybe a couple of months. I only know of three couples that have stayed together for more than six months. If any of the student couples are likely to end up married, I'd bet on them.

Then again, Bradley was with Valerie from early fall last year and up until easter. He said they'd split up due to 'personal differences'. She said they'd split up because he'd been seeing others. Different viewpoints, but the same thing, really. He felt he could sleep around, she didn't.

Bradley's theory on always telling lies is obviously flawed, but I think I've started to see another pattern. More often than not, I hear Wufei and Duo complain about Sally and Hilde, respectively - phrases like 'Hilde can be such a bitch', or 'Sally doesn't know how to mind her own business'. I'm almost led to believe that bad-mouthing someone is a certain sign you really care for that someone.

The fault of that theory is that Trowa doesn't seem to speak ill of Catherine - but perhaps siblings fall outside of this category. I don't say such things about Relena, but since that is also closer to a sibling thing than romance, I suppose that is okay.

I'm not certain how to test this theory - and I'm concerned I'll again have a disfavorable result. We're invited to stay here until the end of the month, and I don't want to alienate the others over these questions - not until it's time to leave. Maybe I'll ask them then.

There is an adage that goes 'distance makes the heart grow fonder'. If this phrase holds, my own theory must be correct, for every time Duo has come back from a call with Hilde, he's found some new expletive to tie to her name, if no further explanation as to why. I tried to ask once, but Quatre quickly put his hand over my knee, which I took to be a caution.

Wufei is still requesting that we sign up at the first possible opportunity. As I've already told him, I do not wish to join the Preventers until I feel I have something to offer them. I could never be a field agent - my vow not to fire a gun ever again includes for training or recreational purposes. I might end up developing weapons, but I will never use them.

This would bring up a complication during the test phase, but I'm sure I can get someone to assist me pulling the trigger.

We're going to head down to the sea tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the chance of a comfortable swim where I'm not contained by tiled concrete and breathing pool chemicals.

_-end file- Yuy, Heero_


	12. July 12th

July 12th, 207

_Jolly Roger's Journal_

Heero has no grasp of the concept of 'shy' at all.

We were down at the beach today. Clear, warm water, sand that scorches your feet, that sort of bliss. Never had much chance to swim when I was a kid, but I did learn how to somewhere along the way - at least enough to keep me from drowning.

Heero told me he got into swimming big-time at the college. Says it's a great way to relax. Me, I say he just misses the snug fit of the bike shorts, and swim trunks are the best substitute that doesn't get him weird looks at campus - though I'm sure he still gets looks.

However, I _really_ hope he uses the changing rooms at college. Sure, we had the beach all to ourselves, but in these parts of the world you still don't flash yourself in public without some sort of reaction by the nearest law enforcer. We brought towels for a reason.

He and Wufei got into a contest, once in the water. There are a couple of rocky outcrops about half a mile out from the beach, so they set off a series of races out there, and back again, and so on. I knew I couldn't compete, so I didn't even bother to try.

What bugged me about that, was that I was left with Quatre. Most of the time, he focused on the book he'd brought - some recent study on macroeconomics, or something - and worked on the tan of his back. Good or bad, I don't know. Never been much of a conversationalist, not when I'm supposed to _think_ before I speak. Couldn't bring up the whole beggar routine right off the bat. Had to come up with some random chatter before I got to the big questions. I just couldn't think of anything.

Maybe I'll call Hilde tomorrow, for some pointers. I know she'd be _thrilled_ to help, if it would get me to actually asking. It's not that she doesn't have any shame, it's that she has a brain for business - equal to even Quatre, I'd say.

Trowa didn't join us - stayed back at the mansion. Said something about checking the sublevels together with Rashid. Not sure whether they're reminiscing, or making preparations for the future. Relena says we're at peace now, but that's what she said last year - and look where _that_ got us.

I don't care what Heero says. In my book, that girl is still a ditz. She means well, but that's about all she can manage. A nice figurehead, but if she's the brains of the outfit, I wouldn't give the government any hopes of re-election, not that they're likely to get that, what with the Mariemeia wars and everything.

Anyway - on his way up from the water today, Wufei made damn sure to stop next to where I was lying down, just to lean over and dog-shake his head over me. He smirked and walked off before I could tackle him to the ground and sand-bathe him.

It doesn't matter. I know someone who's going to have a very salty egg for breakfast tomorrow.

_- 'is that a scythe or are you just really happy to see me?' - Little D. _


	13. July 13th

July thirteenth, AC 207

_Side Notes_

Avoiding Quatre without avoiding suspicion is close to impossible. Instead, I have to pick my battles. The beach trip yesterday was a little too much, so I talked Rashid into showing me the bunker system. I'm glad I did.

It wasn't as if the tour itself wasn't interesting. There might not be any mobile suits around, but their armory is still plentiful, if it ever came to another guerrilla war. It wasn't as if Rashid bored me with the details of what they'd changed since the battle here two years ago, what they'd repaired, how they'd converted the top levels to habitats for the Maganac families.

The reason talking to Rashid made me happy was the way the conversation always returned to one topic; Quatre. The Maganacs care for him in a way I have trouble fathoming. None of the mercenary bands I was in, formed such a fondness for any member of their team. Some were brothers in arms, sure enough - but the man in charge was someone you feared and respected, not necessarily someone you'd lay down your life for, because if you did, no promotion for you. Sucks for him that he was careless, and got killed, that sort of attitude.

The Maganacs and Quatre are far beyond that. I really don't understand it - I don't know what Quatre did to win such affection, such dedication, but it must have been spectacular. I want to ask him, but I couldn't. I asked Rashid, but he said that was not a story for him to tell.

I think he knew I wouldn't dare ask Quatre directly. Rashid might not have Quatre's empathic sense, but he felt enough like a mind-reader just then.

Somewhere in the conversation, I tried to off-handedly insert a remark, a question; _'so, the Maganacs must really like Quatre...'_

"We all love him," Rashid answered so quickly, so matter-a-factly that I just couldn't believe it. "He's the son or brother of every man in the company. He's their leader. He's their friend. That he is also their benefactor is almost trivial beside that."

I took him to mean with that last point that the feeling was definitely mutual - and I know he's right. I've seen him talk to Rashid, seen him light up with the man enters the room - and I've wanted so badly to kill Rashid and take his place.

The fact is, though - Rashid has the guts to voice his feelings for Quatre, even to strangers.

How can I compete with that, if I remain dumb?

Another note... once I've thought about this a while.

_ - T. B._


	14. July 14th

July fourteenth

_Dear Diary,_

I'm almost certain Trowa is avoiding me now. I know he made arrangements with Rashid yesterday, but we could all have taken that tour together today. I keep thinking back and try to remember if I've said or done anything that could offend him - not just these past few weeks, but back during the wars.

I never felt I had a problem with Trowa - but I suppose I was a problem for him. If I hadn't had my slip into madness, he would not have had to shake me out of it by almost losing his life - and in a sense, he _did_ lose his life, forgetting it for months. I can't express the relief I felt when we had him back.

I've often wondered just where 'he' was during that time, and if he remembered any of that. Articles I've skimmed suggest no, but you never know.

Though not exactly an enigma, Trowa certainly remains somewhat of a mystery to me.

Duo is more straightforward to read. There is certainly something he's dying to tell me - or not tell me, since he hesitates at every turn. I admit I've grown very curious now, and I'm tempted to just ask him outright. I can only think of one time I've seen him like this - early in the war, in this very compound. He was given free access to our support bays and tools, and took advantage of that. However, as it turned out he needed to replace one of the fusion valves. One of the water-tight seals had been damaged, and salt water had caused even more havoc, and the part needed to be replaced.

Fusion valves aren't exactly cheap, and you can't really botch one together, salvage style. That could have some seriously negative effects with the stability of the reactor, like going 'boom' at ill-timed moments, like when you're inside the cockpit.

Duo stalled like mad trying to ask for one, and he did try to repair what he had. It wasn't until one of the Maganacs caught on to what he was doing that I saw to it that a brand new fusion valve got properly scratched and dirtied down to look old, and deposited in the low-grade spare parts vault by 'mistake'.

We found it fitted in Duo's gundam the next morning, and he was back to his normal, carefree self.

Unfortunately, I have no clue what he needs this time. Perhaps he'll open up to one of the others, and I can get some idea second-hand.

If it takes too long, I'll just go zero on him. Ignorance might be bliss, but knowing there's a mystery there with a solution you're not privy to, is beyond frustrating.

Heero asked me about one of the yellow press articles I've had my face plastered across - the 'most eligible bachelors' one. I had to laugh at that, because he clearly thought I had become some sort of high society Casanova. Luckily, that happened over dinner. Duo was quick to tell him I was on that list because of my money. Wufei said it was for my connections. Trowa added that my looks didn't hurt the magazine sales figures, either.

Immodest to say it, but I suppose they are right.

Wufei asked if that sort of printed rubbish bothered me. Maybe it should, but it doesn't, not anymore. After the field day they had when they first found out that I'd been one of the gundam pilots - which wasn't until after the trials were over, thankfully - this sort of gossip is nothing. It's much better to be fronted as a rich, good-looking bachelor than a war criminal that had simply bought his freedom.

The problem with slander is that even if you get it refuted in court, the damage has already happened. It took a good couple of months with PR campaigns to rebuild the good reputation of the Winner name.

The settlement has prevented reoccurencies. Sometimes, it is good to have bloodthirsty lawyers in your keep. Once their wallet has been bitten into, most editors will reconsider whether the extra sales revenue would cover the lawyer fees and reparations.

I once discreetly let the management of the larger glossy magazines know that my lawyers would defend my friends also. I haven't seen speculative stories about Heero and Relena since then.

Wufei might sound like a broken record, but at least he feels strongly about the issue. I already find myself making pledges to increase donations to the Preventers, and he's cajoled me into help funding a laboratory, should Heero join the agency's research department after graduation.

I couldn't help but notice the look Duo gave both of us, once that became 'public knowledge'.

Perhaps he'll crack tomorrow. Or maybe I will.

Good night,

_- Quatre_


	15. July 15th

AC 207, 15/07

_Memoirs of a Warrior_

I feel like I am finally making some headway.

Heero has conceded that he might sign up in an advisory or R&D position once he finishes college - provided there are any vacancies, that is. Of course there are. The biggest problem would be to convince the brass to let him simply be a researcher. No doubt they want him as an instructor for new cadets. I have yet to determine whether he still considers his fists and feet 'weapons', and if martial arts in a sparring fashion would be beyond his personal pseudo-religious doctrine.

Trowa has asked about the pay and possibilities for advancement. I think he might even consider active field duty. His inquiries took me by surprise - I thought he was content at that circus of his. I wanted to ask, but to take the chance seemed foolhardy. For once, one of them shows some interest, and I am not about to smother that with curiosity.

I called Sally and asked her to send me some recruitment pamphlets and give me the number of the human resources department. This is an opportunity the Preventers should not miss, even if I have to ruffle some feathers within the agency to make this happen.

Duo overheard Trowa and I talking, and he too wanted to know what the pay might be. However, he made it clear he could not be a full-time agent. Not in it for the cause, but in it for the money, I suppose that about sums Maxwell up.

Sally asked if I was having a good time. I did not bother to lie - I would much rather be back with her, preparing for the next assignment. She told me that things are quiet, that apparently even evil took a holiday this summer, and then she had the audacity to laugh. If I did not know her as well as I do, I might have taken her for a far lighter fighter than I know her to be.

That said, I _have_ found some pastimes to keep myself content. Quatre has a very rich library on the premises. What baffled me was how every single one looked as if it had been read - and not just once. Given the size, that would have been a monumental effort. However, Rashid, who showed me the vast room in the first place, informed me that this was used as sort of a public library for the Maganacs, not just the private book collection of the wealthy.

I came across a shelf of books that were out of the Dewey decimal system, and asked about them. Apparently, that shelf was the _true_ personal library of the Winner family - and it featured a most eclectic mix of titles. _Wealth of Nations_, Adam Smith. _The Art of War_, Sun Tzu. _The Illiad_, Homer. Tactics from Clausewitz, Jomini, Napoleon, philosophy from Aristoteles to Kant - and then we get to the true fiction literature - some contemporary, but others hundreds of years old. _1984_, _20.000 leagues under the sea_, _Tom Sawyer_, _Wuthering Heights_ and several titles that were unknown to me. Those, too, had been read more than once - and Rashid told me that these copies had _only_ been read by Quatre.

I am starting to think Quatre is the only one who can rival me in reading. Duo would have us beat in comics, and Heero will undoubtedly take the lead with fact literature after his tour with college, but I cannot imagine any of them picking up anything Mark Twain wrote. I think I will point Duo in the direction of that particular one. For someone so proud of his imaginary heritage, he should certainly expand his knowledge of it beyond mere sentiment.

The library has indeed been a boon. For the last couple of days, I have found several books that have been out of print for decades - _A Detailed History of China, 1850 - 2050_ was particularly intriguing. So much went wrong near the end, as L5 got built. In some ways, L5 is an orbiting tombstone of the China of old - but as has always been in China, one Mandate of Heaven replaces the next. Even now, there are some who claim the new Earth Sphere government is the next Imperial rule, made divine by the gods.

Aside from the books, I could also tell Sally that I had had some inspirational chess matches with Heero. We seem to have a similar grasp of the game. Playing against Quatre is something you only do when you need to be humbled. After three straight - and quick - defeats in a 'best of five' set, my desire to face him across a chessboard has significantly diminished.

Trowa challenged me to a game this morning. I believe I will take him up on that. Perhaps we can discuss his potential future with the Preventers as we play. He has not yet taken part in our informal duels, so I do not yet know his proficiency at chess.

One more enigma to uncover before the day ends.

_'I hear and I forget; I see and I remember; I do and I understand.'  
- Chang Wufei_


	16. July 16th

07/16-207

_Heero Yuy's Personal Log_

After some deliberation, I've come to the conclusion that professor Malackey's idea of 'enjoyment' must be related to the dating game, or by extension, the keg parties. Neither holds much appeal to me, and I can't quite figure out how either is supposed to bring any sort of pleasure. Alcohol in large quantities numbs the senses and more often than not leads to some awfully poor decision-making and slurred, incomprehensible speech, riddled with words best left unspoken. I can see the refreshment value of one beer, but moderation is key.

As for dates - my direct experience is limited, and I've not found the time to research the matter directly - observation leads me to believe it would take more time than I can justify spending at present. If I had thought it important at the time, I could perhaps have taken advantage of Relena's early obsessions - apparently, such a level of 'need' is a good thing in a relationship, but judging from all mass media sources I've skimmed, it only brings ruin if it is one-sided, and if it goes both ways, nearly all the TV shows suggest it will end badly in the long run.

An analogy of fire is perhaps useful here. In the one-sided case, it's a blaze versus paper. Paper dies, then the fire dies also. In the both ways scenario, it's a magnesium candle burning from both ends; ridiculously bright while some material remains, then cold darkness. A perpetual, warm flame requires a constant flow of a burnable substance - ergo, this thing called 'love' needs a slow infusion of a power source to keep a tender, soft glow. Flash heat is only temporary.

What I can't quite figure out is that this flash heat is precisely what is depicted as ideal in nearly every show I can find. Sustainability takes a very secondary role in the TV dramas.

I do realize there is a difference between fiction and reality - that is easy enough to grasp when we see anything related to the wars, or the gundams, or anything remotely technical. The amount of factual flaws are staggering. Good TV has nothing to do with reality, but they _do_ say something about what the public at large accepts as 'truths'. I cannot believe that it is essential to be in a relationship to experience any sense of accomplishment or happiness. Am I to deny J's brilliance with building Wing, just because I never saw him at a bar with some tipsy woman? Conversely, can I say the reverse of Howard, because I have?

Perhaps. At least I've confirmation the latter is still alive.

Another thing that annoys me about the media portrayals is the apparent importance of your 'first kiss', and how it almost seems to include some automatic affection on a profound level. This is at least one facet of romantic myths I have had the chance to experience first-hand - and I did not find that to be the case.

It was during my first semester. Some girl came up to me, and rather out of the blue asked if she could kiss me. I could detect no ulterior motives at the time, and looking back on it I do not think her goals similar to miss Jenkins. She merely had an itch, and asked for a scratch - or it was part of a dare, or something. I shrugged and said okay, and she kissed me.

I didn't feel a thing from that, and certainly nothing like the 'mystery' as is described in books or films. I had no sudden urge to wrap my arms around her in an embrace, or to kiss her back, or otherwise molest her. I simply felt nothing, no more than I would consider it if someone bumped into my shoulder in a crowded hallway - slightly annoyed, if anything.

She - I never learned her name - was apparently content with my non-expression, because she tapped my nose once and wandered off, chuckling to herself.

At this point, I wonder if she thought she had put me 'in a daze', one of the other possible end-states of a so-called good kiss. I wonder if I should have informed her that the truth was I was merely lost in thought about the situation.

Then again, I've learned the danger a little truth can have.

Perhaps it is a good thing the whole issue with Melanie seems to have alienated me from the entire female population at campus. It is better to focus on my studies of more substantial matters than something as elusive as love. To seek reason in emotion is a lost cause, though to follow your emotions is worthwhile for a gut-reaction. Instinct can be a powerful - and useful - thing.

But to use it within reason? That is the hard part.

_-end file- Yuy, Heero_


	17. July 17th

July 17th, 207

_Jolly Roger's Journal_

Talking to Hilde on the vidphone is nowhere as good as being there in person. I can't walk away as easily or pretend distraction over the phone. The time-lag is the worst part - whenever I say something, it'll take a good few seconds before the judgment comes back.

Okay, so maybe I'm painting the devil's horns on her way too often. We might bitch and argue a lot, but when it all comes down to it, we're both only trying to do what we think is best, for the both of us. Plus, it's my own fault she's become so skilled at manipulation. I taught her everything she knows, and then she went ahead and improved on all of it. At least that's what it feels like.

She wasn't pissed when I told her I hadn't talked to Quatre yet, and that I wasn't sure I would. She was okay with that - she'd smoothed things over back home, so my little 'falling out' with Biggs is almost forgotten, except by Biggs and his dentist. Hilde says he's threatening with lawsuits, but we both know Biggs won't do that. We could always bring in some character witnesses and proof regarding the scams he's running under his boss' nose.

Before she could ask me, I asked her how she was doing. Said she was doing okay, but was feeling lonely. Knew I'd be back in two weeks, and she said she was planning to fix some of the things I'd broken around the house in that time. Said as a joke, meant in all seriousness. What can I say? I'm not clumsy, but when something breaks down, my first 'fix-it' method includes a good kick. If it's broken, it couldn't hurt.

Of course, I knew the 'lonely' line... it was just another way of saying she wants kids. Heck, I know she does, and I know she'd make a great mom - not so certain about wife, if you plan to stay home a lot. I wonder who'd be the best at poker, Hilde or Heero. Both of them can put up a face like a wall, hiding what's really going on.

Nah, it'd probably be Heero, he would count the cards to boot.

About kids... whenever we _do_ talk about it, she never brings me up specifically. She knows we don't have that sort of relationship. And it's not like I don't want kids, _ever_ - just not _now_... but I know it's not going to happen anyway.

We've had sex. Usually after a serious bender, or other freak incident. When she or I needed comfort beyond a hug, usually. A fuckbuddies sort of thing. She knows what it was, and she's never come out and said she wanted anything more out of me, probably because she knows I wouldn't be able to give her all she wants.

I love the girl, but not like that. She's family, kinda. Okay, so it's not like I'd fuck my sister when I'm feeling blue, or anything, but I can't seem to tell her that she should give up on me and find someone else - I'd love to walk her down the aisle, but I can't be the one waiting by the altar. That would be cruel, since I know how badly she wants kids.

See, there are side-effects to sitting around in a poorly shielded machine with a fusion reactor and then some inside. Some of Deathscythe's systems weren't designed for pilot comfort, much less for his prolonged life. Okay, so it's not like old Mushroom-head built me a death-trap, but sometimes, things break down, and you do field repair and hope you did a good enough job. Point is, some of the radiation shielding wasn't as good as it should have been - at least that's what the doctor said four months ago.

I'm clean for cancer, and he said I'd probably live to a hundred...

...but I'm shooting almost all blanks.

That won't change, even in a hundred years.

I don't think I'll ever have the guts to tell Hilde that, unless she finds someone else to build a dream with. I'll be her best friend, brother or even father any day - but I can never be the father of her children.

Truth is, no matter what, I don't want to lose her as _my_ friend. I know she'd probably take it all in stride, but it would change the stand-off situation we've had on the subject for two years now. Heck, if I _could_ knock her up, I might just have done it, because I know she wouldn't have put any obligations of it on me, but... I can't.

I still hate that day when the results came back... I got my life back, but like half a man, sorta. Know it's not like that, but I can't get myself to talk to anyone about it, not even the doctor. If I wasn't so afraid of admitting the fact, I'd ask the guys if any of them had the same problem - but if they don't, where does that leave me?

So, I do what I do best. Put on a grin, and try to forget. Usually, it works.

It sucks when it doesn't.

_'quiet as death is murder' - Little D._


	18. July 18th

July eighteenth, AC 207

_Side Notes_

Despite Duo's best efforts to convince me, I still don't think I missed out on too much by not going with them to the beach last week. I'd have liked to have taken a swim in the sea, sure - and seeing Heero strip down without a second thought might have been good for a laugh, but that wouldn't suffice. Besides, I've seen Heero naked before, when we had to patch him up from his first self-destruction. He's got a body worth admiring, but it's not him that I love.

And that is what all the possible larks at the beach couldn't weigh up for.

Perhaps it would be easier if I _were_ just in lust over someone like Heero - I doubt he'd serve the the sort of gentle smile that renders me all mushy inside. Quatre does that without even thinking; it's part of who he is - or at least, the front he puts up. I almost wish I could be there when he's overcome with grief, anger or frustration, just so I could support him; justify an embrace.

I keep trying to act nonchalant, but it's not easy. Infiltrating OZ was a cakewalk compared to living under the same roof as Quatre, without revealing my thoughts. I know he senses something is up, but he has refrained from cornering me on the subject, so far. For some reason, he appears more interested in picking Duo apart over something.

Define irony? That Quatre _is_ gay, but in love with someone else. If that is true, I'm not sure I could stop myself from punching Duo's lights out, or worse. Jealousy is a nasty thing.

I don't think that's what it is, but the green monster chewing at my heart suggests otherwise.

I walked out on them on breakfast, wanting to roam the grounds alone for a while. As fate would have it, I ended up at the gazebo - the same one from more than two years ago. It looked worn down, in disuse, but the instrument cabinet was still there, as was the flute I once used. I gave it a go, tried to remember the notes, the mood from back then. It was difficult. It was the easiest thing in the world. The moment passed before it began. Disgruntled, I packed the flute away again, and walked off.

Quatre is the one with the musical gift, I know that - I knew it back then, too. I could play, but nowhere near his level. I could not match his play, only attempt to complement him.

Isn't it the same now? No real match, only there at his side to fill a vacancy?

It's hard not to turn angry at him, even though I'm the one at fault. I really don't want to get caught glaring at him, for that is not what I truly feel. Maybe I need some new tricks to stay out of his way.

At first, I wondered if Wufei might be helpful in that matter. For a while now, he's immersed himself in the library, and wherever we go as a group, he has a few books along. Duo gave him some jibes about his reading glasses, but when he was ignored in favor of the book, the matter dropped. Wufei reads fast, and often - but the rest of us can't really bring us to complain, because with this literary pursuit, Wufei has almost relented entirely from his recruitment drive.

This morning, I followed him down there. He'd told me there was a shelf of books that was Quatre's, and I found myself curious as to what he found worth reading. Most of the titles were too factual, or too unknown for me, but an old poetry collection caught my eye. No real structure in the editing job, just poems taken from nearly a millennium of aspiring minds, trying to depict something important to them, at their point in time, life, world.

Poetry is the way of saying so much with so little, and packing so minor meaning in so many words. Poems are read, not written; what the words convey is more often determined by the audience than the author. No wonder why poetry can pack a punch, when it can be interpreted even more varied than even religious scripture.

For that same reason, I don't think any of the poems could give me a deeper insight into Quatre's mind, but they can at least suggest where he finds inspiration.

Few of the names were known to me. Shakespeare, I've heard of, and a few others - but a short poem by someone called Whitman caught my eye:

_'Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting,  
Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them,  
And yet they expose me more than all my other poems.'_

Another note when I've worked up the guts for one again.

_ - T. B._


	19. July 19th

July nineteenth

_Dear Diary,_

When Duo approached me this morning with a very determined attitude, I thought that I was about to finally learn what's been bothering him these last few weeks. Instead, he surprised me by asking if he could borrow some of the books in my library for a while. It was easy enough to say yes, but I had to ask which books. "_Tom Sawyer_", he said. I asked if he'd ever read something of Twain before, he answered no, and that he only knew the names of a few of the really old authors, like James Joyce. Duo claimed two paragraphs of _Ulysses_ were enough to cure him from any desire to read more. Apparently, Sister Helen's library had been limited to the pride of Ireland and the Bible, and between the two of them, I can see why a young Duo would turn to comics instead.

This sudden spark of academic interest seems to originate with a dare from Wufei. I told him to get _Huckleberry Finn_ while he was at it, and maybe some books by Jules Verne. I had to restrain myself from not overloading him with authors and titles - there are so many I think he'd enjoy.

I forgot to angle for the deeper purpose, though - not that I think Duo would have taken the bait.

I've tried to get Rashid help me judge whether our guests are happy here or not - I realize that there isn't all that much to do here, other than enjoy the sun, the pool, the cultivated grounds, the library, the occasional game, and quiet reminiscing about our past. It feels odd, being able to do that. None of us are even old enough to vote yet, but we've been through so much already.

Heero is the only one that still accepts my chess challenges, unless I'm to play two opponents at once. Playing against Heero is sort of like playing against a dedicated machine. Heero is brilliant, but he overanalyses every single move, and it's fairly easy to follow his eyes and see which pieces trouble him the most. All in all, his talents makes him a _good_ chess player, but the same skills keeps him from becoming _great_. I'm reluctant to accept Duo's offers on a poker tournament, because I know he'd rob me blind in cards.

Talking to Wufei has become sort of a non-issue due to his reading stint, though we did have a quick debate over whether Clausewitz or Jomini had the best theory - roughly, does victory come from drill and numbers, or the occasional inspiring daredevil hero?

As for Trowa... In the past, I always had an easier time with Trowa, it was as if I could connect immediately with him. I could almost know what was on his mind without a single word being exchanged. Now... I find that almost impossible, and though I want to ask what's troubling him, I find myself unable to. I'm starting to think _I_'m his problem.

Yesterday, I followed him - stalked him, if you must. I'm glad I did, because I got to overhear his flute play again, reminding me of that day more than two years ago. It's as if times were simpler, even happier back then. Ridiculous, I know, with the war and everything. Perhaps it hadn't fully dawned on us what we were in for - what war was really like. When you're just attacking another machine, it's easy to forget there is someone inside that machine, someone not likely to escape unhurt with you hacking at his mobile suit.

The first time I had to shoot someone up close, with a pistol, was hard. And easy. And necessary. And meaningless. And I hope I never have to do anything like it ever again.

It's a subject I'm still debating whether to bring up with the others. Do they feel the same? I think Heero does, with that vow of his. For Wufei, the fight isn't over yet - but he's fighting so he eventually _won't_ have to do such things. That is the paradox of war.

No wonder we're kids sounding like bitter, old men at times.

I'm tempted to start calling people - Catherine and Hilde, for starters. Perhaps they can clue me in to what I'm missing. Still, to do that might be very counter-productive, once the guys find out.

Rashid just warned me that there is a sandstorm coming in. The Maganacs are already helping the servants secure the grounds and cover the pool. Rashid also told me that Sally called and left a message for Wufei. He wouldn't disclose the details, which suggests recruiting him to spy on the others is a futile gambit. I just hope whatever Sally had to say wasn't along the line of 'new mission', because this storm appears to be rather fierce. For better or worse, we're all stuck here for the time being.

Good night,

_- Quatre_


	20. July 20th

AC 207, 20/07

_Memoirs of a Warrior_

It is infuriating to be trapped here. For a jail, this mansion is certainly appealing - unless you want to leave, badly.

Sally has received another target for us, and has started reconnaissance. She specifically told me there was no rush, which only serves to agitate me. If this was nothing, why leave a message in the first place? To ease my fear of her well-being? I have none; she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. It was not like she could leave any mission details, either - I would have to see her to get full knowledge of the situation.

When I tried explaining this to Quatre, he all but told Rashid to restrain me. Apparently, Quatre made an excursion in similar weather during the war, and strongly recommended against it. As it is, I am not permitted anywhere near the motor pool.

The books are no longer an adequate distraction, so it was a godsend that Rashid let us know of the gym at the lower levels of the compound. The punching bags helped, but what really helped me vent some anger was when Duo asked for a sparring match of 'anything goes' type martial arts.

Duo is quick to surprise in most things he does, fighting included. He does not follow any particular discipline, but that is also his strength. Where others are tied to specific responses due to training, Duo operates closer to instinct. All in all, we are a good match, and we kept it going for a long time, right until Quatre walked in and forced us to break up. I am certain we looked far worse than either of us felt - I know I felt good, and I believe Duo was content with the match also. The bruises will heal, with time.

I have to hand it to him - Duo has certainly kept in shape. Managing his own salvage yard cannot be the cushy job I had imagined it to be.

We had a few more bouts later in the day, but with Quatre monitoring us, it was less free-for-all, and more according to rules. This left Duo at a disadvantage, though he gave Quatre a fair competition when they sparred later. Quatre never struck me as a close-combat fighter, at least when out of a mobile suit, but he can defend himself readily enough.

Heero and Trowa joined us near the end. They had apparently been caught up in a very even match of chess.

I found myself challenging Heero, which was a bad move. He might not look it, but there is a strength in him that surprises you, when you've been trained to observe your opponent and plan your moves almost entirely on what you see. My defeat was not easier to swallow when Duo then bested him almost immediately, attacking Heero before he could deduce a counter.

And here I figured me for the direct approach warrior, and him for the stealthy assassin. How easy it is to be mistaken.

And how hard it can be to cope with that.

_'The arrogant army will lose the battle for sure.'  
- Chang Wufei_


	21. July 21st

07/21-207

_Heero Yuy's Personal Log_

Yesterday's chess match revealed more than Trowa's habit of defending his queen. I can understand the desire to keep it alive, but in chess that piece is just about your best all-round weapon. What good is a weapon unless you use it at some point? In chess, deterrent does not apply.

Basically, I wanted to know what causes attraction. I realize this is highly subjective, but since Trowa and I have similar pasts - not just the war, but before that - I would like to hear his thoughts on the matter. So, I asked him. His offensive play was greatly unsettled after that, but we kept the game going for far longer than it should have.

He was hesitant to answer, but I can understand that. Most people seem reluctant to share deep emotions. Random blurbs like 'I love you' are far easier to distribute than other words conveying the same meaning, but on a far more sincere level.

Trowa is apparently not a believer of 'love at first sight'; love is something that grows out of a mutual respect, bonds that slowly deepen, experiences that are shared - especially difficult ones. This is rather contrary to what I've observed at college. There, romance starts with a random date, or some trifle at a keg party, or a run-in at a mixer, such things. Little enough of that has time to mature, and short of exams, there doesn't appear to be many hardships for the relationship to be tested against.

When I told Trowa about this, he started laughing. Is my theory so laughable?

"Love only appears to come suddenly because it's that moment you realize," Trowa said. "You can be with someone for years, and not see what's written all across your face, because nobody ever hands you a mirror." I found this rather perplexing - if you showed clear signs of being in love with someone, wouldn't that someone be able to see it? I realized it was only a metaphor, but the question deserved an answer. Trowa mulled on that, just as he contemplated whether or not to sacrifice a knight for two of my pawns and the defense of his castle. He opted to strike. He told me the signs might be there, but those that aren't looking for them, won't see them at all - and those that do look, will see signs anywhere.

To be honest this left me just more confused, just as the move of his rook to my pawn-defended castle did. We talked on the subject for quite a bit more, but there was little new to add to my observations from the past. Attraction is more subjective than I'd first thought. Since I needed to know the validity of the source, I did ask if he'd ever been in the state called 'love'. Trowa answered an affirmative, but the curt reply told me that was all he'd tell me.

I keep thinking of the two situations I've mentioned recently - that old kiss, and the fall-out with Melanie Jenkins. It all started yesterday afternoon, after Trowa and I joined the others down at the gym. We arrived at the end of their session, and didn't get much of a chance to spar, but something dawned on me. Why did I react so sharply when Melanie attempted to touch me? I let myself be kissed by the unknown girl, since she told me her intentions first. Melanie just acted - and I reacted. Yet, I don't find myself doing that with any of the guys, even when Duo snuck up on me and tried giving me a noogie. He ended up on the wrestling mat, for his efforts, after getting about two rubs worth against my hair. That's at least one and a half noogie later than my usual reaction level.

Maybe it's different with friends. Or guys. Maybe I'll have to ask Relena to give me a noogie to determine any difference.

_-end file- Yuy, Heero_


	22. July 22nd

July 22nd, 207

_Jolly Roger's Journal_

Hilde has to give me credit - I came damn close to asking Quatre today. Close, but no cigar.

You'd think I'd run out of ways to skirt the issue, what with the storm going on and everything. It's not like we're completely isolated - the land lines still work, so I could talk to Hilde if I wanted to - which I don't, right now.

Thing is, this time it wasn't my fault. Quatre was the distant one. I don't have the details, but I think it has something to do with Trowa. They worked so close during the war, you'd think they were inseparable. Turned out they weren't, what with how we all went our different ways. The entire time here, it's as if Trowa has been avoiding him, or vice versa sometimes.

I'm sort of starting to think Quatre came out to Trowa at some point, probably right after the war, and got a bad reaction for his efforts. Can't tell for certain, but that's my best theory yet. Trowa's spent time with us, but I don't think he's been much with Quatre while he's been here. Of course, that also means my assumption about Quatre being gay has to be true, and there's no way in hell I'd dare ask him that. Imagine that conversation... "Hey, buddy, I need to borrow a million bucks from you, at no interest, and I think my girl would love it if you knocked her up for me. Oh, and by the way, are you gay?"

Quatre has gone nuts before, he could do so again. Why take chances?

Yeah, that's me... Careful, gentle Duo... Never one to smash heads together to get things moving.

Okay, all that aside... There's something going on between them, and I don't know what. Whatever it is, it'll probably be made clear soon enough, 'cause looking at Quatre was like looking at my own mirror image - he's _dying_ to talk about something, just like I want to ask him for that loan.

Wufei gave me some materials - I wondered if I could do some part-time stuff for the Preventers, something that wouldn't crash with my day job. Turns out they need analysts, mission planners, that sort of paperwork stuff. Not exactly what I'm best at, but I've some experience. Not that I think any plan really matters - it's almost never any good when you get down to the real situation. Routine missions have a way of turning out otherwise, even if you work with something dull like logistics.

I doubt the pay would be any good, though. I'd have to commit fully for that to happen. Not sure I want to do that - at least not forever. I'll talk to Hilde about it. Maybe I could go in as some form of teacher or something for a while, a year, maybe two, enough to build up a nest-egg we could use to move to L3, if that's still the hot-spot of the salvage business then. Probably is, orbital construction is a slow process compared to dirtside builds.

I've wondered about moving down here sometimes - but it's not really me. When you've grown up in colonies, that big-ass open sky can freak you out, if you look at it too long. And, of course, you don't get weather, as long as the environmental systems and the fail-safes all work. No damn blizzard of sand on L2, no. Not unless they turn the air recycling systems to full power to blow all the dust out of the pipes.

Wonder if things act up like that on L3 colonies too...

Okay, so I'm going to ask him. Really, I am - as soon as he doesn't look that troubled anymore.

_'Life is all death is afraid of' - Little D_


	23. July 23rd

July twenty-third, AC 207

_Side Notes_

Talking with Heero can be really unnerving. He has a way of asking just the right questions without even knowing it, and without understanding the full meaning of the answers he gets. Sometimes it's like he has all the answers for others and for himself, but trouble forming the right questions.

The other day he all but wanted to have me explain 'love' for him - talk about mission impossible. If there is any single term worse to fully explain than 'war', it is 'love'. Both are so basic in human existence we'll probably find the meaning of life when we figure out those two words completely.

With the sandstorm still raging, it's been much more difficult to stay in the shadows, unnoticed. Avoiding the others - Quatre - has been almost impossible, and I don't know how long I can keep up a facade of nothing when he's around. At least I haven't had to face him down to just his pool trunks and all oiled up these last few days.

Since Heero is still working on that answer, I haven't been all too keen on starting more talks with him. As a result, most of my socializing these past two days has been with Duo or Wufei - or both together, when I've felt in the mood for a bickering match. It's strange how they constantly argue, when you know there's not any real animosity between them. Yes, they beat each other until they both got some lovely blue eye shades the other day, but I think that was more a compact to work out pent-up frustrations. Neither of them seems willing to talk about what's truly bugging them, and so they have to find other ways to vent. To bottle it all up is to wait for an explosion.

I feel like going off, myself, sometimes.

Good thing this place has many bathrooms.

Those little moments of fancy and fantasy are no good in the long run, though. If anything, they make matters worse. How many times can I imagine kissing Quatre before I suddenly find myself at his face, without any pretext to be there - and _then_ what would I say? Come clean right then and there? Unlikely - and what possible excuse could I make up? 'Oh, I thought you weren't breathing and went CPR'?

I know Quatre has definitely caught on that something's not right. I knew he would, he always does. If there is one place I would never have been able to infiltrate, it'd have to be Winner HQ, because he can see straight through me in a way Lady Une and Dekim never could - and yet, he's blind to my problem, or at least I think he is. Hope he is. For if he can see what I feel for him, why wouldn't he respond in some way?

I'm tempted to find some excuse and leave, but the sandstorm is preventing all such notions, and I'm left as antsy as Wufei.

Heero used to talk about 'acting on your emotions'. I believe he meant instinct and gut reactions rather than the sappy, sentimental types of emotion, but I'm starting to wonder whether it wouldn't be best applied to other situations as well. If I'm going to be miserable either way, why not take the chance and tell Quatre the truth? Tell him exactly what my thoughts and feelings are? In the worst case scenario, we'd be no less together than we already are.

To hell with this.

Another note... when I've asked him,

_ - T. B._


	24. July 24th

July twenty-fourth

_Dear Diary,_

...I still can't believe it.

I really can't.

It was unreal, but it happened. I didn't expect it. I certainly didn't expect it would be like that. Be that good. I just...

We did it. Trowa and I, I mean. We did _it_.

I don't think he planned for it to go that far, this fast. It just sort of... happened. I don't know why I didn't get this sooner, can't believe I didn't _notice_... Last night, he caught me as I was heading for bed, said he had something to tell me. He must have wanted this for a long time, given all the intensity he showed throughout last night. Three little words, and then an avalanche of them; explanations, desires, aborted touches.

I did the only thing that came to mind.

I hugged him. He hugged me back, hard enough to give me trouble breathing. I clawed at his T-shirt, he must have misinterpreted that a little, since he started tugging at my shirt, gave me a clumsy kiss, then a better one, and it sort of snowballed out of control after that. Stopping only occasionally passed my awareness, but got lost in the haze as we orbited each other into my bedroom, towards the bed, towards skin. I think I knew he'd call the shots, that he'd fuck me, not the other way around - but I let him, helped him along.

And it was _good_.

I know this is going to sound stupid, or gross, or both, especially when I look back on this entry in a couple of years - but I'm glad I'd just been to the bathroom to 'clear out'. I think that made it easier. Doesn't stop me from having trouble sitting up straight this evening, though.

I want to describe last night so I'll remember, but I just can't find the right words for it. I've never seen - _felt_ Trowa so passionate, so tender. At first, it was like being made love to as if I'd been made of glass, so careful you wouldn't believe it. I could see it on his face, how he desperately wanted me, how he was terrified he might hurt me - when he finally managed to say what I read off of his every move, I told him to just shove it, and shove it in. A few seconds later, I regretted saying that, but it passed.

And it was _good_.

I've never thought of myself as gay. I know others have. The pink shirts are something my father told me to exploit. Impression is everything. Until they learn differently the hard way, most people are going to behave towards you based on what they think they see. The few that don't do this, are the ones that succeed in life.

Trowa... isn't like that. If he had been, he'd have killed me the first time we met, despite the odds. That way, at least his suit wouldn't have gotten into enemy hands, had I set up a trap for him to come out in the open.

Am I gay? I don't know. If having sex with another man forever labels you gay, then I guess I am. I still don't feel gay. Or straight. I just feel like.... Quatre. Like me. Like who I was before one of my best friends told me he's had a crush on me for years, and went on to hump me.

Waking up next to him, all sweaty and sticky, was another thing altogether. Disbelief at what we'd done. Discomfort with how bits of my body ached. Uncomfortable with how his knee jabbed at my thigh, or his hand plastered against my stomach with - well, you get the idea.

But when I slipped free, and rolled over, I couldn't help but laugh. I don't think anyone but Duo can match Trowa for outrageous morning hair. The amount of combing, gel and wax needed is beyond me.

I kissed him awake, and got a whole new show. How he slowly came to, realized where he was, who he was with - what state he was in... Took me a couple of minutes to make him realize he wasn't dreaming, and that he shouldn't panic. The relief in those green eyes of his...

Heaven be praised...

I think I'm in love, too.

I'm so glad we didn't have plans for today. That made it easier to avoid the others, just stay here in bed, or in the shower, or here again, or - yeah.

Rashid came by for me, though - worrywart, didn't see me at breakfast. I don't have a habit of locking my bedroom door, and him coming in has never been a problem before - but after today, I think that will change. He came in, about to speak up, but stopped short. he looked at me sitting in bed barely under the covers, at the clothes scattered at the floor, towards the bathroom... and it wasn't too hard to see he knew exactly who was in there, taking a leak. I held a finger across my lips, gave Rashid a wan smile, glad that made him drop the stern face. He shook his head, mouthed 'we'll talk later', and slipped back out before Trowa returned.

I called the kitchen, and got some food delivered to outside the door, enough for two. It was only an hour ago that we finally left the bedroom, he first, I'll go once I finish this entry.

Yet, despite all the time we spent together today, we haven't really _talked_ about this... What it all means, where we go from here - how we tell our friends. _If_ we tell our friends. What if Trowa wants us to keep this a secret? I'd respect that wish, but it'd be tough if this is a start, and not a one-time thing. I can't believe that - won't believe that.

And if this is a beginning of something greater, what follows tomorrow, or next week? He's due back at the circus, me at the boardrooms... Long-distance relationships are difficult. Secret same-sex long-term long-distance relationships must be a horror all to itself - and there's a limit to how discrete we can be, or how well lawyers can defend us.

I think that's going to be the hard part for me - coming out, to the world in general, with all the side-effects that might have - though there would be benefits. I wouldn't have to make efforts to entertain the daughters of businessmen or politicians at high society parties, for one thing.

Compared to what Trowa went through last night, I'd say my task is easy.

And I'm certain I'll have him by my side - somehow.

But for tonight... there are only the two of us in the world. At least if we can slip down to the kitchen for a late night snack undetected. I have this craving for a nibble.

Trowa's earlobes, maybe.

Good night,

_- Quatre_


	25. July 25th

AC 207, 25/07

_Memoirs of a Warrior_

That cursed storm has finally abated, so perhaps Quatre would see fit to let me go now. It is not that I do not appreciate their company, I just wish it was under different circumstances. This sort of idling is not for me, not when there is work to be done.

Sally insists she can handle things alone for a while, and that she in any event has instructed the office not to give me any details until I get back - and not until August first, earliest. She seems very determined that I 'relax', even though all this is causing the exact opposite.

It would not surprise me if she is perfectly aware of this, and only seeks to agitate me, or test my patience. She knows I have little enough of that. If I consider the whole thing a training session, it at least becomes bearable.

In a few days, it will all be back to normal, or as normal as this mad world will permit. When I return, it is certain Sally will ask about my stay, about what I bring back from my vacation. I am tempted to say nothing, but would not be the truth. These past weeks have given me slight insights into my old comrades, and to some extent an understanding why they have taken other paths. We all want to improve the world, but in our own ways.

I seek to discipline the world, make people understand the values of order, of how violence will not gain you anything, but will rob you of everything.

Quatre tries to breathe life into the dying embers of ambition in the populace, make them want to pick up plowshares rather than swords, show them the benefit of making a living for yourself.

Trowa seeks to revitalize the heart and soul of the people, remind them how to laugh, how to be amazed, amused, how to share high spirits.

Duo helps people pick up the pieces, clear away the sins of old and build new shelters to weather the storms of deep space, of the future.

Heero is set on educating the masses, teaching them what wonders science can bring, if the resources are not targeted towards weapons and destruction, but to the creative, constructive, ingenious.

We, and so many others, are shaping the world to come. Despite our efforts, none of us can do that alone. We can but do our part, and hope others are inspired to help.

To make everyone share such lofty goals is another matter entirely. What is our ideal future is the dystopian nightmare of others. As they say, the freedom fighter of one man is the terrorist of another. There are at least two sides in any war, and ten times as many views.

I blurted out these thoughts to Duo and Heero yesterday during another practice match - not certain of why, perhaps I craved a test audience for my words, to have some idea of how Sally might accept them, and then hopefully give me a clearance for active duty again. To my surprise, Duo did not say a single word of ridicule, and Heero did not start picking apart every poetic phrase and inconsistency. Instead, Duo paused, stared at me, and told me that was just perfect. Heero looked less certain, but nodded nevertheless.

Come to think of it, I have been spending a lot of time with Heero and Duo these last few days. Trowa has kept to himself, and our gracious host has been conspicuously absent. Perhaps they will join us for dinner today, I need to have a few words with Trowa, so if he remains a no-show, I presume I will have to seek him out.

Returning from the library yesterday afternoon, I asked Rashid about Quatre's whereabouts, and he seemed a bit flustered about the question. He said Quatre had received some urgent business he had been forced to attend to, and had asked Rashid to convey his apologies for his absense. Rashid did as much, and rushed off to organize the clean-up effort following the storm.

The whole scene disturbed me. Lies are not becoming of Rashid, and I am almost certain that he lied. Still, Quatre must have his reasons for the secrecy. I just hope he is not planning some kind of surprise party to signal the end of our stay here.

Perhaps I have been in the trenches for too long. I have grown a dislike for surprises, since in war situations, they can be fatal. Whatever Quatre is brewing, it can only be benign.

It still gives me the same unease as a deep grin on Duo's face, though.

_'Grow a tree for ten years; grow men for a hundred.'  
- Chang Wufei_


	26. July 26th

07/26-207

_Heero Yuy's Personal Log_

I believe I'm starting to understand what Professor Henley meant. Wufei said something the other day that got me thinking. Simply put, there are some answers that cannot be taken out of a textbook, and many of those that can, might not be correct.

In mathematics or physics, there is almost always one definite answer to the problems, one where the textbook reply is correct all the time - with the possible exception of theories or hypotheses. In all matters less clearly defined than absolutes - which includes oft rewritten history - there are viewpoints to everything, and they are often personal. Given that, the textbook answer is no more neutral than its authors and editors are, and when the 'truth' is a result of a compromise, it is often quite bland.

In that specific example - the history book is probably correct in broad terms, but nuances are often lost, or set aside. Was the printing press invented in Europe, or in China? Both lay claim. Both are right, and both are wrong. The basic technology of both woodblock and movable type emerged in China, but it was with Gutenberg's independent innovations that it started a renaissance that shaped the world to come.

Perhaps a better example - who was the first to discover America? Christopher Columbus? Leif Eriksson? Celtic monks, or Chinese explorers? Or should we award the title to the first people who crossed the Bering land bridge in the distant past?

Any take on history is tainted by your preconceptions, by your heritage, by what others have told you is the 'truth'. If you trust the one telling you, why check sources? Why get another opinion?

I presume this was my flaw - by simply copying the textbooks, I adopted the authors' views as my own, rather than look at the source material and form my own opinion. In history, this might not diverge so much, but in less fixed subjects like literary analysis or philosophy, rehashing the words of others will give you nothing.

Perhaps, then, this is similar to the term 'love'. The very concept is simply far too individual to be interpreted within a set of absolutes, never mind that any one person can feel several versions of it. There is familiar love, love as in friendship, proforma love, platonic love, 'true' love, 'good enough for now' love, 'death or lawyer do us part' love... The list is close to infinite.

No wonder the others balk whenever I try to get their views on this - it is simply too personal unless it is shared, and save what I hope is friendship or at least mutual respect, we do not have that.

Perhaps Trowa was right, the problem with love is to become aware of it, notice it. I for one can't claim I've ever been caught up in anything remotely similar to what the TV dramas portray, not as part, not as target - save perhaps Relena's affections of old, or incidents like with Melanie Jenkins.

For that matter, I've trouble understanding the appeal of sex. I realize love and sex are not the same thing, though the coexistence is presumably a healthy sign. As in most cases, I stick to theory ahead of practice, to gather some insight into what I endeavor into. In this case, that would call for pornography - but like that Jane Doe kiss, it has no real effect on me.

I have no medical opinion to back it up, but perhaps I suffer from impotence. During my time with J, I had a rather impressive drug cocktail as part of my daily routine. My strength, quick metabolism and endurance didn't come by entirely naturally, even though training was part of it. I don't believe any of it was directly harmful, there were no steroids or such. J might have been an old, sadistic bastard at times, but he would be too cautious to let his 'perfect weapon of vengeance' go to waste by becoming a dumb bruiser more in looks than action.

As in all cases not absolute math or physics, there is another obvious explanation, though.

Perhaps my problem is simply with women - if not the way Wufei and Duo depicts them.

Rashid has requested our help in cleaning up after the sandstorm. Quatre tried to object, but we voted him down. It would only be fair to contribute something back, after being allowed to stay here for nearly a month. The Maganacs are his friends also, so why should they work, and we not? Perhaps there is a difference in love at play here - family versus less intimate friends.

_-end file- Yuy, Heero_


	27. July 27th

July 27th, 207

_Jolly Roger's Journal_

Okay, something definitely happened when I wasn't looking.

They must think they're so subtle, but anyone can see the difference. They're still dancing around each other, but not to keep their distance, not deliberately. The way they look at each other tells the whole story and then some. Of course, neither of them has 'fessed up, and so we all have to play the damn game. Well, the three of us, at least. Not sure if Wufei or Heero have caught on just yet.

It's not that I'm really pissed. Hell, I'm happy for them. Good for them that they've worked everything out, glad I was right - must have been, at least in some things. I even reserve the right to be a little envious. Sure, they'll have their own set of trouble to overcome, but at least Auntie Red won't ever be a pain.

Which reminds me - better buy some icecream on the way back. Almost that time again.

Heero caught me off-guard this morning, and asked me what Hilde was to me. Can't blame him for asking, since I'd just given another rant about her to Wufei, sharing our miseries. We're both being idiots. I know it. I think he does, too. I don't know what I'd do if Hilde packed up and left, out of the blue - other than miss her.

Anyway... I was stumped for an answer. We're friends, for sure. Roommates, yes. But despite the occasional 'incident', I wouldn't claim we're lovers, and we're not dating either. Still, 'friend' seems too empty a word, and 'girlfriend' is far too loaded. Somewhere in between, maybe. What's that called, again?

Heero talked about love and absolutes and a whole lot of stuff I couldn't figure out how he came up with. I think the only thing we could agree on without an interpreter was that there's something completely intangible about love, a mystery if you will, that can't really be told in words - only approximated.

I know there will be a day Hilde moves out, or I do - but I'm dead certain it won't be the sort of dramatic break fiction loves to feature.

For now, I have other problems to deal with - like that loan for our L3 venture. I _will_ ask... I still have several days left, don't I?

I've come up with a bit of a plan, one to end all my frustrations all at once. Trowa and Quatre aren't talking, not in words. What if I give them a little help, a soft 'nudge' to break the ice of silence, and force out the truth? Sure, that is sorta mean if they planned to camp out in the closet, but right after that it would be a hell of a lot easier to summon up the guts to ask for money, since the answer would be in doubt. If Quatre was pissed at me, he'd put down some standard limitations on a loan, rather than write it off to a 'friendship' tab, or even gifts.

Then again, if he goes all the way to Zero, begging the banks for a loan would have been a better option.

But - nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

They'll never know what hit them.

_- 'Operation Meteor, Death from Above' - Little D. _


	28. July 28th

July twenty-eighth, AC 207

_Side Notes_

If nothing else, you can trust Duo to get right to the point when his mind is set on it. From breakfast this morning, I quote; "So, are you guys fucking, or what?"

Quatre choked on his tea. I started chuckling. Wufei gave Duo the standard frown of disapproval, and Heero slowly lowered his cup of coffee, no doubt turning all senses on 'record'.

Quatre recovered, looked to Duo, then at me. I gave him a nod, whatever came next was his choice. I had no reservations about Quatre doing the talking. He's better at it than I, and there's also the fact I wanted to hear his version of these last few days.

I'm certain about my feelings, but I'm still not sure about his. Quatre is considerate by nature, and so it isn't as easy to detect when he's being more than politely considerate - the other night certainly did that, but since then...

He started off slow, briefly confirmed that he and I had indeed 'entered a new phase of our relationship', I think was his exact words. "Lovers?", Duo asked. "Boyfriends," Quatre quickly moderated, but the growing blush on his face told Duo - and the rest of them - that Duo was right. My sheepish grin could only seal the deal.

I'm glad - at least he's not embarrassed about being my boyfriend, about being with a man. He's more embarrassed by the implications of Duo's last remark; about sex. We can work on that - not that I plan to make him an exhibitionist, but some things are better experienced than told.

The mood around the table brightened at that, and I sensed no ill-will whatsoever. Duo even congratulated us, the other two following suit, but there was misgivings on Heero's face, just the type he has when he's played a game ten moves ahead and finds nothing but trouble. "So, where will you go from here?" he asked. It was a darn good question. In a week, we'll all be worlds apart.

Quatre made a few false starts at an answer. I reached out across the table to take his hand, get his attention, give him a smile. That sufficed. "We... haven't discussed that yet," Quatre admitted.

That was true enough - ever since the other night, we've only shared brief moments - stray touches in passing, a stolen kiss when we found ourselves alone, that sort of thing. I suppose I could just invite myself back to Quatre's bedroom, but I don't want to push it, not now. I would like him to take the initiative next. I have to _know_ what we have is mutual, not just believe it. I'm certain this is not a one night thing, but only Quatre can tell me that - show me that.

I've had more than a year to get comfortable with the idea, and I'm living my dream now. He's had a few days in which his world was transformed to cope with. It might take a little longer for it all to settle in with him, though I think he's grown to accept and like the idea of us, together.

I smoothed my thumb across the back of his hand, he tentatively brushed his fingertips against my knuckles, and we shared a glance.

It can't have been more than seconds, but that was enough for Duo to roll his eyes and mutter a teasing "Get a room..."

"Well, they would have plenty to choose from here," Wufei quipped back. They both laughed, and soon after the conversation returned to last night's ball game - sports, not anything adventurous between Quatre and me.

The guys decided to crash early, and I half expect Duo engineered that. I think he knows my predicament. If nothing else, it'll make it easier for Quatre, should he want to. I hope he does. I almost expect him to show up here tonight, here in my bedroom, to continue where we left off. There's no point in hiding anymore, not in this house.

While I wait, I return to browsing that poetry collection, especially those written by Walt Whitman. It's strange how words hundreds of years old can still get to me in such a way. Perhaps there is something true about 'eternal love', since that sort of emotion does not get old, like technology inevitably does.

There's this paragraph from one poem called 'Live Oak, with Moss' that I feel describe my sentiments better than my own words could;  
_'I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands, as directed to me, whispering to congratulate me, - For the friend I love lay sleeping by my side,  
In the stillness his face was inclined towards me, while the moon's clear beams shone,  
And his arm lay lightly over my breast - And that night I was happy.'_

_ - T. B._


	29. July 29th

July twenty-ninth

_Dear Diary,_

Sometimes, things just don't turn out the way you plan.

When I decided to sneak down to the guest quarters last night - and I did sneak, pointless though that might be now. My friends would never tell, nor would Rashid or the Maganacs, but there are still a few servants in this place I don't know by name, and there's always the chance...

I can't help it. Since before I could walk, Father trained us in how to keep up appearances, how even the hint of scandal could bring everything down in a heartbeat. We learned to be careful. One of my sisters had a picture taken while entertaining her boyfriend, but the articles that were written had more to do with cheap, racy pulp fiction than reality. Even so, the matter ruined her relationship, and nearly her as well.

I did get there, and found Trowa reading poetry, of all things. I suppose that's when my plans fell through. I'd come here thinking I wanted sex, but a few stanzas later I knew I'd come here because I wanted _him_ - to be with him, spend time together, be intimate, but not necessarily the sweaty, grimy type.

And that's how it went... Him and I, on his bed, him reading poems of lost loves and sweet nothings that might have had deeper meanings had I managed to summon up the brainpower to do more than take soothe in Trowa's voice, his arm around me, his heartbeat to my ear. I must have fallen asleep somewhere between Keats and Byron, but it was a good night indeed.

During our outing yesterday, Heero said something that got to me. Where _do_ we go from here? Long-distance dating? That will be difficult, and it would take a great deal of discretion to pull off. Letters can be intercepted, calls can be tapped, and... yes, I'm being paranoid, I know.

As much as I'd like to, I can't give up the company. Trowa knows that. There are simply too many people that depend on me being here. That said, I'll look more closely into those delegation of responsibilities ideas my sisters and Rashid have put up from time to time.

Trowa has the circus, and for all intents and purposes, they're his family. I can't ask him to leave them behind just for me, as tempting as it can be. I'm always in need of good men, and I'd gladly make Trowa my personal assistant, or secretary, or bodyguard - oh, scratch that last one, wouldn't want him to get hurt. I'd offer him any job, anything for an excuse to keep him close to me, keep him with me all the time. Even if he'd been willing to leave the circus, I'd be afraid to ask. He would be too proud to take an offer like that, and I can't quite think of him as a 'kept man'.

Not that I'll let him get away easily, now that he's made me fall for him.

Duo finally came clean, and shed some light on why he's been avoiding me - perhaps also why he chose to expose Trowa and me yesterday. He needs money. That's the heavily abridged version. When he told me, over the course of a very intricate conversation involving anything but the loan, and how he didn't want to ask, but really needed help - this I deduced, he didn't use anything remotely as clear - all the pieces fell into place.

It's not a bad idea, what he and Hilde are proposing. It's an interesting prospect. I had to be really careful not to let him know that Winner Enterprises has also considered going into L3 for a while now. I'll have to remember to scrap those plans when I'm back at the office.

In the end, I agreed to give Duo a loan. To ease his concerns, I put in a 'no interference' clause - the money is theirs to use and misuse, at least until they have to pay them back, with interest. I sensed his pride would prevent me from giving him too good a deal, but the interest rate is still better than what he'd have gotten in a bank - if the bank would have dared loan him the money, that is. Also, since this startup operation is in a different league than their current salvage operation on L2, I snuck in a clause that the interest and payments would not start until their branch on L3 is active. I'm sure he'll notice that when I come visiting him and Hilde next month to sign the papers, though - but then, Hilde should talk his pride away from the cliff, and avoid the fall.

A few more days, and they'll all be gone. As will I. What will come next?

I need to talk to Trowa about this, pride be damned. Maybe I'll simplify it - just ask him to stay, period.

I can hope he'll say 'yes', right?

As I've mentioned before, I'm not a particularly religious man - call it a consequence of being conceived in a test tube - but there are some words and phrases from those tomes and ideologies that stick with you, no matter what.

_'Inshallah'..._

Good night,

_- Quatre_


	30. July 30th

AC 207, 30/07

_Memoirs of a Warrior_

I am almost done packing - I had to get an extra suitcase, due to the books Quatre graciously let me borrow. Sally insists that our next mission is a dull recon operation, so I suppose having more material to pass the time will come in handy.

I cannot go directly to meet up with her, of course, since she has still not shown me the good graces of letting me know where she is. First stop is then my apartment - or storage room, more like. I have not spent much time there this last year. There is a reason the decor is absolutely minimalistic, and furniture limited to a couch and two cabinets.

Duo will leave us tonight. He asked me for the Preventers' HR department number, which I found uplifting. Apparently, he wants to work out some kind of deal that suits him - typically Duo, but I kept quiet. His proposal has merit, though - given his occupation and residence, a 'month on, month off' type of position might be just the right one for him. When I get back to headquarters, I will make sure to stop by HR and try to fast-track the deal. I might have my misgivings about Duo, but there is no denying that he is an effective soldier, and the mix of his talents and easy-going nature should go well with fresh recruits. They will learn the blood and guts part of our quiet war soon enough.

I plan to talk to Trowa again, though I believe I already know his answer.

Over dinner, I might have spoken up against all that is wrong with the world again - ranting, Duo calls it, and perhaps he is right. He cut me off, asking a fairly simple question. "What will you do when you've defeated all things evil?"

Of course, the question is inherently flawed; there will always be evil in this world, and hopefully always a few people willing to combat it. Nevertheless, it implied I might not want to do this forever, and in that, I believe Duo is correct. Grudgingly, I told them as much.

It was then that Quatre uttered his view. "If you care so much about the world, why don't you seek office? As a politician, I'm sure you could get more done."

Obviously, I refuted that as a near insult, suggesting I should besmirch myself with what I believe is a fundamentally flawed system. However, with a day to contemplate the idea, I wonder if there might be merit to it after all. I doubt very much I could get elected to any office, much less one high enough that I could enforce stricter legislation to curb those clinging to violent means, or fight the rampant corruption within the government - but there is some appeal to bringing down a bad system by changing it from within.

For now, though, I am content with fighting the enemy I can see, rather than those who would smile at my face, and then stab me in the back.

As I said, there will always be evil.

Especially in politics.

_'If a person has ambition, things will be accomplished.'  
- Chang Wufei_


	31. July 31st

07/31-207

_Heero Yuy's Personal Log_

At the airport, waiting for my flight out of here. I have mixed feelings about going back to campus. The paper mill you have to go through at registration, for subjects and housing alike, is astounding. There is also the matter of Melanie Jenkins - but with luck, some other poor fool might have put a greater foot in his mouth than I did.

That aside, I still do not understand women - but if Wufei and Duo are to be normal examples, I suppose men simply are not supposed to do that - or vice versa.

Duo left last night, and he seemed genuinely happy. I thought it strange - he hasn't been kind in his words about Hilde, and I can't quite imagine to return to her would be the cause of his happiness. Perhaps I do not understand other _people_, period. Gender might have nothing to do with it.

I parted ways with Wufei half an hour ago, as his flight departs from another section of the airport. Considering the cranky state he arrived in, our separation was far more amicable. Duo not being here might be part of the reason - the two of them mix about as well as dynamite and detonator caps. It's strange, then, that Duo is the only one who took him up on the offer of enlistment, if in a limited fashion.

Wufei argued with Trowa this morning, on the same issue. No doubt, Wufei had hoped to add Trowa to his success story for spending a month here. Trowa served him a smile and his curt reasoning, "I have better things to do now." I wasn't aware the circus mattered that much to him - or perhaps it has something to do with Quatre. Or both. Wufei looked none to happy, but he didn't push the issue. I almost wish he did, I would have liked to know what Trowa meant, exactly. I prefer absolutes over assumptions.

I couldn't help but note that Trowa stayed at the mansion, rather than share the cab with Wufei and me. As I recall it, his flight is scheduled to leave before my own. I have my suspicions as to why.

I'm happy for them - they seem to have worked out what love is, but their answer is probably not my own.

Or is it? Perhaps I too am gay. I've never tried kissing a guy, but I doubt there would be any sort of magic to that either, especially if Trowa was correct in his theory. Trowa and Quatre have had a long story of being close, just not close enough, until last week. I'd ask Trowa or Quatre for help in this 'experiment', but somehow I think their reaction would be averse. Wufei would no doubt be equally inapproachable on such subjects. I could ask Bradley to kiss me, but as I know him he'd tell everyone at the mere suggestion. Alienating one half of the campus is bad enough, I don't need a reputation in the other half also.

Duo, then? Maybe. Of all the other pilots, of all my friends, he's the one I share the longest story - ever since he shot me, rescued me and I took off after stripping his gundam for parts. If I ask him and he goes ballistic, can our friendship end any worse than it began?

Maybe I'll ask him next time we meet - and perhaps I best test the waters before then. Duo seemed to accept Trowa and Quatre for whom they still are.

You might ask, why do I pursue this matter of love? The answer is actually quite simple. I don't want to end up alone. Solitude did J little good, in the end.

But he had friends.

As do I.

_-end file- Yuy, Heero_


End file.
